


Somewhere Around Nothing

by umakoo



Series: Trucker AU [1]
Category: Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Past Child Abuse, M/M, Underage Sex, trucker AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:37:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umakoo/pseuds/umakoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The little runaway sniffled and pressed his curly head against his knees, and Chris had to look away. This kid was not his problem. Chris should just walk away, get in his rig and hit the road. He had another 40 miles to go before the next truck stop, he didn’t have time for some troubled teenager from the suburbs.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Chris is a truck diver who comes across a young runaway in a dirty old restroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Around Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hurricanewinds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricanewinds/gifts).



> The fic is 80% shameless smut and it includes some dark themes, so heed the warnings.
> 
> (Originally posted on my [Tumblr](http://www.umakoo.tumblr.com))

The small restroom had seen better days. Most of the tiles on the walls were covered in faded graffiti and decades-old requests for booty calls. The low electrical hum from the fluorescent lamp above Chris’ head was so loud in his ears that it reminded him of a swarm of bees.

“Out of order,” he read the sign on one of the wooden bathroom stalls, but when he tried to turn the handle on the adjoined stall door he found it locked.

“Someone’s in here,” a small voice spoke from inside the stall, and Chris grunted an apology, backing away from the door.

He set the white plastic bag that contained his high-calorie tv dinner and other junk food from the gas station next to the dirty sink, and leaned against the wall to wait, using his feet to part the sea of crumbled paper towels that had missed the trash can in the corner.

Chris combed his overgrown hair out of his face as he waited, deciding to toss the comb away when he realized most of the spikes were missing. He reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt, pulled out a small flask and took a swig from it, feeling the burn of the lukewarm whiskey as it slid down his throat. He used the back of his hand to wipe away some of the golden liquid that had trickled into his beard, eyeing the locked door in front of him, getting tired of waiting; it had been almost five minutes and he needed to take a goddamn leak.

“You just about done in there?” Chris asked, but whoever was occupying the stall greeted him with silence. “What the hell are you doing? Having a wank?” Chris beat his fist against the door a couple of times, but his hand froze when he heard a muffled sob from the other side. “What the fuck?” he muttered, his brows drawn together in a confused frown.

Chris ignored the warning sign on the second bathroom stall and stepped in, climbing on top of the toilet seat to peer over the wall that separated the two cubicles. There was someone huddled on the toilet seat, curled up into a ball.

“Hey, you aware that there’s a line out here?” Chris barked, but he regretted his harsh tone when the person finally looked up and met his eyes. It was just a kid. A goddamn teenager with what appeared to be a bloody nose and a bruised cheekbone. Chris immediately reined back his temper.

“You, uh… You ok, kid?” he asked, making sure his voice was as unthreatening as possible. The boy in the stall stared at him with wide blue eyes, and Chris could see there was a small red haematoma in his left eye, probably from the bruised cheekbone.

“I’m fine…” the kid mumbled, lowering his face. He looked like he wanted to be invisible.

Chris watched him over the cubicle wall, unable to stop a wave of pity from twisting in his stomach. The kid had ‘runaway’ written all over him. There was a hastily packed backpack on the floor and the faded tee-shirt and the baggy basketball shorts the boy wore looked like something he would sleep in.

The little runaway sniffled and pressed his curly head against his knees, and Chris had to look away. This kid was not his problem. Chris should just walk away, get in his rig and hit the road. He had another 40 miles to go before the next truck stop, he didn’t have time for some troubled teenager from the suburbs.

When the boy failed to suppress a shaky little sob, Chris ran his hand through his hair, yanking at the long strands in frustration. “Fuck…” he sighed, getting down from the toilet seat.

He knocked on the locked door, quietly, not wanting to startle the boy. “Look, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Chris said. “Just come out and let me take a look at that nose. I’ve seen my share of bloody noses, maybe I can help.”

The air in the restroom was loaded with tension, and the humming from the broken lamp seemed even louder than before. Chris stepped back when he finally saw the cubicle door begin to open with a heavy creak. The boy stopped to eye Chris through the narrow crack in the door. Chris raised his hands in the air to show that he meant no harm. He knew he was bigger than the average guy, and he might seem more than a little intimidating to a kid who appeared to bear marks of some kind of abuse.

“I won’t hurt you,” Chris assured the boy. “You can come out.”

The kid finally slipped out, squeezing his backpack in his arms, never once taking his eyes away from Chris. His nose had stopped bleeding, but there were dark blood stains on his nostrils and lips, running all the way down to his chin. The bruise on his cheekbone had turned yellow, and Chris figured it wasn’t as fresh as the bloody nose.

“Go ahead, get yourself cleaned first and I’ll take a look at you when you’re done.“

The boy stepped closer, tight-lipped, and set his backpack on the soap stained counter next to Chris’ plastic bag full of junk food. He turned the water on and bent down to wash his face with trembling hands, the dried up blood painting the water an ugly rusty color.

Chris leaned against the bathroom stalls, noting the way the boy’s bumpy spine was visible through his grey tee-shirt, and how the shorts he wore hung low on his narrow hips. He looked young. Really young. The sight quickly made Chris’ thoughts go down a familiar dark path, and he felt a little guilty, but you can’t blame a guy for looking when he hasn’t gotten laid in over three months.

The boy closed the water tap and reached for the paper towel dispenser on the wall to dry his face. He turned around slowly to face Chris, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. He looked like a cornered animal, ready to bolt, and Chris made sure his movements were slow and unthreatening.

“Alright, let’s take a look at you,” he said, arching his eyebrows up in a question, waiting for the boy to give Chris permission to touch him. The only answer he got was a small nod, but it was enough. There was nothing Chris could do about the boy’s red eye or the bruised cheekbone, but he noticed the blood had concealed a small split on the kid’s lower lip, and he pressed his thumb against it to see if it needed stitches. The boy recoiled from his touch, and Chris immediately pulled his hands away.

“Sorry,” he said, “but I think that needs to be cleaned.”

The boy eyed his split lip in the mirror. “I don’t have any money for antiseptics,” he muttered, confirming Chris’ suspicions about the boy probably being a runaway.

“That’s ok, we can improvise,” Chris smiled, pulling out a white linen rag from the back pocket of his jeans, folding it in two to hide the old oil stains. “Here, sit up on the counter, the light’s a little better there.”

The boy hopped up on the counter as Chris took out his flask of whiskey, dabbing one corner of the rag in the alcohol. The kid parted his thighs for Chris, allowing him to get close enough to see the split on his lower lip. Chris pressed the cloth against the cut, and the boy let out a quiet whimper when the burning alcohol came in contact with the wound.

“Sorry,” Chris grimaced, trying to be gentle. “My name is Chris, by the way,” he added in an attempt to relieve some of the tension between them. “I drive a truck.”

The boy licked his upper lip, blinking as the tip of his tongue accidentally touched one of Chris’ fingers. His eyes darted left and right and it looked like he was trying to decide whether to give Chris a fake name or not. “I’m Tom,” he said, and Chris nodded, giving him a friendly smile.

“Good to meet you, Tom.”

The small act of kindness seemed to gain Chris some trust, and Tom closed his eyes as his wound was being cleaned. His face was still unblemished and soft with a touch of youth, and Chris liked the way the boy’s pale skin was covered in freckles. The hair around his temples and brow was wet from his washing, making it curl endearingly. When Chris inhaled he could smell the faint scent of whatever shampoo Tom used.

Chris’ thoughts began to wander again, and he did nothing to stop the lewd images from flooding his mind. He felt his cock stir in his jeans, wondering how easy it would be to get Tom to come with him to his truck. The kid definitely had his guard up, but there was also a needy vibe about him that made Chris take pity on him, and the way Tom leaned into the hand on his face made him seem almost touch-starved.

Chris smiled at the thought. If he played his cards right, he could maybe get a handjob out of this.

“There, all done,” he said, throwing the dirty rag into the overflowing trash can in the corner. “The cut on your lip isn’t that deep. It should heal in no time.”

“Thanks,” Tom said in a small voice, touching the wound with the tip of his tongue, frowning at the taste of alcohol that still lingered on his lips. He jumped down from the counter and gave Chris an expectant look that seemed to say ‘what now?’

Chris was in a hurry, so he decided to reveal his hand and get straight to the point. If the kid refused him, Chris would simply get in his truck and forget the whole meeting. “Look, I’m a little behind my schedule, so I’m just gonna ask you: do you have anywhere to go? I mean, you were huddled in a shitty old restroom five miles from the nearest town.”

Tom lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet. He shook his head. “I guess I kinda ran away from home.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Chris nodded, eyeing the boy from head to toe. “So, Tom, do you need a ride somewhere? I drive an 18-wheeler and I could take you as far as Denver.”

Tom’s eyes lit up at Chris’ words, his desperation to leave this place visible on his young face, but the corners of his mouth sank, and Chris remembered the kid had no money. “I can’t pay you,” Tom said, sounding disappointed.

“Don’t worry about that,” Chris said, letting his eyes linger on the boy’s mouth. “Listen, I gotta take a leak, but you can wait for me outside by the gas pumps.”

Tom nodded, and Chris watched him exit the restroom, thrilled and surprised by how easy it had been to get the kid to come with him. Chris figured Tom must be really desperate to get away from whatever it was that he was running from.

 

|||

 

It was past 10 pm and the highway was almost deserted. The white center line seemed to go on forever in the darkness that surrounded them on all sides. Chris watched Tom from the corner of his eye, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gearstick.

Tom stared at the different lights and meters on the dashboard, visibly excited to get to ride in a truck. He looked small inside the big cabin, like the seat would swallow him whole if he didn’t hold on to the handle on the door. Chris noticed Tom had a slightly malnourished look about him, or maybe this was how all kids his age looked: gangly and awkward. The shirt Tom wore was one size too small for him and had a faded Optimus Prime print on it. His shorts were so baggy that Chris thought they had to belong to Tom’s big brother or someone twice his size.

Tom ran his fingers through his blonde curls, and Chris wondered how those fingers would feel around his cock, if Tom would even manage to wrap his hand around Chris’ girth. He had to reach down to adjust his half-hard dick in his jeans, but Tom didn’t seem to notice, too intrigued by the lights on the dashboard.

It had been almost ridiculously easy to get the boy to come with him, but Chris wondered how he should play his next card. He didn’t want to scare Tom away, not when they were in the middle of nowhere, but it had been years since Chris had fucked a fresh-faced twink like Tom and he didn’t want to waste this golden opportunity he’d been handed out of nowhere. Chris could easily tell that Tom was underage, but the thought only managed to turn him on even more. He’d always liked them young and naïve, easily corruptible and willing to let Chris take control.

Chris cleared his throat to get Tom’s attention. “So, Tom,” he said, breaking the long silence between them. “Where are you headed?”

Tom turned his face to look out of the window, even if there was nothing out there but darkness. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Anywhere but here.”

“Are you having problems at home?”

Tom was quiet, his eyes fixed on his own reflection in the window.

Chris reached over and brushed his fingers against the bruise on Tom’s cheekbone. “Did your old man do this to you?”

Tom huffed, pulling away from Chris’ touch. “Frank’s not my dad,” he grumbled, and the way he pouted made Tom look even younger. “He’s a slimy pig.”

Chris didn’t have to be Einstein to guess what had made Tom run away from home, and he decided not to press the matter further. They were quiet for a long time, the only sounds the steady rumble of the engine and the humming from the A/C. The radio on the truck had been broken since Milwaukee, and Chris had meant to get it fixed for some time now.

Tom continued to scowl until a loud growl from his stomach broke the silence.

“You hungry?” Chris asked, smiling at the way Tom’s stomach continued to grumble. He reached for the plastic bag and placed it in Tom’s lap. “Help yourself.”

Tom began to dig through the contents of the bag, stuffing his face with Cheetos and a cold hot dog, downing it all with a can of Coke. Chris watched him eat and he could guess the kid hadn’t had a proper meal in a while.

When his belly was full, Tom leaned back in his seat, licking the grease and salt from his fingers, letting out a loud burp. Chris raised one eyebrow at the sound. “You’re welcome…” he chuckled and Tom shot him a playful grin.

“Thanks for the food,” Tom said, sounding content. “But I still can’t pay you…”

Chris shook his head. “I told you, I don’t want your money.”

Tom turned sideways in his seat and pulled his knees up, leaning his head against the backrest. “What _do_ you want?” he asked, and the teasing tone in his voice made Chris turn his gaze away from the road to look at Tom instead. The boy stared at him with an expectant look on his face.

Something passed between them and Chris could feel the sudden shift in the air. He wondered if this was the moment to make his next move. He’d intended to wait until they reached the truck stop and maybe slip Tom a little booze from his pocket flask to help the kid relax and make him more amenable, but now Chris wasn’t sure he needed to do any of that, because it seemed Tom had just made the first move.

Chris had to turn his eyes back to the road when the headlights of a passing car caught his attention. He tightened his hold on the wheel when he realized that Tom had unbuckled his seat belt and was getting up from the passenger seat. The boy got down on his knees in the small empty space between the two seats and reached for Chris’ belt buckle.

“Hey, kid, wait,” Chris gulped, grabbing Tom’s wrist with his own much larger hand. He hadn’t expected things to move quite this fast. “What exactly are you doing?” Chris asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the expression on Tom’s face without taking his eyes off the road for too long.

Tom tugged at his wrist, but Chris didn’t release his hold. “Isn’t this what you want?” Tom asked, sounding genuinely confused. “It’s the only way I can pay you.”

Chris watched the boy from the corner of his eye. Tom licked his lips, getting them wet and ready, and something about the way he eyed Chris’ crotch made it obvious that this wasn’t the first time Tom was kneeling in front of someone, getting ready to suck them.

“How old are you, Tom?” Chris asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Tom’s eyes darted around the cabin. “I’m sixteen,” he said, and Chris knew it was most likely a lie.

“Do you want to do this, Tom?” he asked, even if it was just to relieve the guilt that always reared its ugly head when Chris did something like this. He knew what he wanted wasn’t right, but it had never been enough to stop him.

Tom gave him a nod and Chris felt it was convincing enough. He let go of Tom’s wrist, allowing the nimble fingers to reach for Chris’ belt buckle and undo the buttons on his jeans. Tom’s hands were definitely experienced and it only took him a moment to get Chris’ pants open. He parted the flaps and immediately pushed his hand inside to massage Chris’ half-hard cock through the black boxer briefs.

“Fuck…” Chris groaned, trying to focus on the road ahead, finding it increasingly hard as Tom’s hand grew bolder.

Tom shuffled closer, his face now inches away from Chris’ crotch, and Chris could hear a quiet moan as the boy inhaled his musky scent.

“Can I suck you?” Tom asked, taking another deep breath.

Chris glanced down and the sight of Tom’s curly head hovering above his spread thighs made him wish the truck stop wasn’t so far away. Tom repeated his question, and Chris let out a breathy moan. “Fuck yeah.”

Tom leaned back a little, and Chris felt his cool fingers sneak inside the tight boxer shorts he wore under his jeans. Tom pulled Chris’ cock out before shoving the elastic waistband below his balls. Chris wasn’t even fully hard yet, but he knew he was bigger than most guys, and he grinned at the audible moan Tom let out as he eyed Chris’ erection.

“You’re really big,” Tom said, sounding a little breathless. “I- I’m not sure I’ll be able to fit you in my mouth.” He gave Chris an experimental stroke, moving his hand up and down the thick shaft, stopping at the crown to slick his fingers in the fat drops of pre-come seeping out of the flared slit.

“It’s ok, just…” Chris took a deep breath, focusing on the road, “just take as much as you can and use your hands.”

Tom followed Chris’ instructions, but as soon as he tried to suck Chris’ cock into his mouth, he let out a pained cry, pulling back to touch his lower lip. Chris looked down and saw that opening his mouth and spreading his lips had made the cut on Tom’s lower lip sting.

“I’m sorry, “ Tom whined, his eyes filling up with tears. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, there’s no need to apologize,” Chris interrupted, cupping Tom’s face gently in his large hand while keeping the other one on the steering wheel. “It’s ok, I forgot the bruise on your lip.”

“You’re not angry with me?” Tom asked, staring up at Chris, his blue eyes anxious and brimming with tears. He almost reminded Chris of a scolded puppy.

“Of course not, “ Chris smiled and moved his fingers up to Tom’s hair, petting the soft curls. “You can use your hands and maybe even your tongue, if it doesn’t hurt. Or we could forget the whole thing…” Chris wanted to strangle himself for letting the words slip out, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. As much as he wanted to get a blowjob from this kid, he didn’t want to hurt him. He felt relieved when Tom shook his head and tightened his hold around Chris’ slightly flagging erection.

“I want to thank you, Chris,” Tom whispered, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Tom wasn’t able to take Chris in his mouth and suck him, but he used his hands and tongue like a pro. The boy’s long fingers moved up and down Chris’ quickly hardening cock as his wet tongue swirled around, lapping at the head, coaxing out more pre-come from the slit.

“Yes, that’s it,” Chris panted. “You’re doing great, kid, just keep going, yeah.”

Tom placed hungry little kisses all over the veiny shaft while using one hand to fondle and gently squeeze Chris’ sack that was fuller than normal. Tom increased his stroking, and Chris noticed that it was becoming almost impossible to keep his eyes on the road.

“Hold on a sec, I’m gonna pull over,” Chris breathed, pushing Tom away from his lap so he could park the huge truck without driving them into the ditch.

As soon as the engine died down, Tom continued to stroke Chris in a steady, well-practiced pace. This kid was definitely no beginner, Chris thought, and he felt a burst of anger at the realization. He didn’t want to think about how and when Tom had learned to handle a cock like this. Maybe he had done it to himself, Chris reasoned, knowing how much teenage guys liked to jack off, and he felt the anger subside a little.

“Do I make you feel good?” Tom asked, spitting down on the crown of Chris’ cock to give himself extra lubrication.

“Yeah, it feels so good, Tom,” Chris sighed, closing his eyes, pressing his head against the seat. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

The words seemed to excite Tom and his hand on Chris’ cock grew even more eager, picking up speed. “Come on, give me your come. Please, I want it,” Tom whispered, sounding almost desperate. “Please, daddy, give it to me.”

Chris’ eyes snapped open and he turned his head down to look at Tom, not sure if he had heard him right. “You… You want me to be your daddy?” Chris asked, testing the waters.

Tom turned his face up, and Chris could tell even in the dim light of the cabin that the kid had blushed beet red. It was obvious that the word had slipped out without Tom even noticing and now he was caught.

Chris grinned at him, scratching his beard. “You want me to be your daddy, boy?” he repeated his question, a hint of playfulness in his voice, but he felt his dick throb at the words, enjoying the somewhat twisted, but exciting turn of events.

Tom gave him a hesitant nod and his hand resumed its stroking. “Please, daddy…”

“Alright, just keep stroking that fat cock and you’ll get your reward,” Chris urged, pressing his head back against the seat, smacking his hand behind Tom’s neck to guide his face a little closer, not that Tom really needed any encouragement. Chris felt the boy’s hot breath on the tip of his dick as Tom parted his lips, sucking half of the reddened head into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the sensitive underside.

It had been several days since Chris had had a chance to jerk off and he was packing a huge load. He tried to give Tom a warning, but all that came out was a strangled groan as his cock began to shoot jets of thick, viscous come right into Tom’s waiting mouth.

“Yeah, take it, boy,” Chris panted, feeling the light scrape of Tom’s teeth against his pulsing dick. “Take daddy’s come, swallow it all down.”

Tom moaned around Chris’ cock, milking out every last drop of come until he was finally forced to let the softening prick slip out from between his lips. He gave it a few more strokes, squeezing gently until a final fat drop of come dribbled out of the slit and began to slide down the glistening shaft. Tom leaned down to suck the drop into his mouth, making a content smacking sound with his lips. “Thank you, daddy,” he sighed, wiping dribbles of come from his chin, pushing them into his greedy little mouth.

Chris shook his head in amused disbelief. “Good boy,” he sighed, giving Tom’s head an approving pat.

Chris had never run into someone like Tom before. The kid was definitely damaged in more than one way, but Chris felt no guilt for enjoying Tom’s strange little daddy fixation and the unhealthy need to please. He’d seen his share of strippers with daddy issues, he’d even fucked one or two, but Tom was so much younger than any of those women. It made what they had just done feel wrong, but not enough to make Chris regret it.

Tom tucked Chris’s soft cock back into his jeans, got up from the cabin floor and crawled back to his seat. Chris gave him a languid smile and he noticed Tom was hard, his erection tenting the fabric of the loose shorts he wore. It looked like the kid had genuinely enjoyed himself, even if Chris had been on the receiving end. Tom gave him a pleading look, his eyes darting down to the bulge between his legs and back to Chris.

“The truck stop is still a couple of miles away, but I’ll, uh, I’ll help you with that once we get there, ok?” Chris turned the key in the ignition, and the 18-wheeler trembled as the engine came back to life again. He steered them back to the highway, pressing his leg on the gas pedal a little harder than the speed limit allowed, wanting to hurry to the rest area.

“Can I touch myself, daddy?” Tom asked in a meek voice, sucking the uninjured corner of his lip between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Chris grunted, pleasantly surprised. If he were 10 years younger, the question would have made him hard in an instant. “Go ahead and touch yourself all you want, honey, but try not to come until daddy gets his hands on you.”

Chris was still reeling from the element of role play, though something about the way Tom said “daddy” made Chris wonder if this was all a game to the kid or if he actually saw Chris as some kind of twisted father figure. Someone like Tom who was starved for affection might see a small act of kindness even from a total stranger as something more. The thought made Chris frown, but it also filled him with strange fondness. There was something about Tom that made Chris want to be good to him and take care of him, even though he knew there was no room for someone like Tom in his life. Chris hardly had enough time to take care of himself.

He kept glancing at Tom whenever there were no approaching cars in front of them, enjoying the little pants and content sighs the boy let out as he kept touching himself through the worn shorts.

“Can I take it out?” Tom asked.

“Go ahead, baby, but remember: don’t come until I give you permission,” Chris nodded, starting to really enjoy his new role.

Tom shoved down the shorts and the white briefs he wore underneath them, and when he pulled his stiff prick out, Chris was relieved to see that Tom had hit puberty some time ago. The kid’s innocent face was a little deceiving, but his cock was definitely hard, slapping against his flat belly. Tom began to stroke himself with the kind of greedy eagerness that Chris remembered from his own youth. 

When Tom’s moans grew louder and he began to buck his hips into his own fist, Chris had to remind him that he wasn’t allowed to come yet. Chris didn’t want the kid’s come all over his passenger seat and dashboard, though he left that part out.

“Slow down, boy. Remember what I told you? You don’t come until you have daddy’s permission,” Chris said, sounding a little disapproving. He moved his hand from the gearstick to still Tom’s stroking hand, groaning as he felt the boy take hold of his hand and wrap it around the stiff cock. It was engulfed by Chris’ large hand, just the red glans peeking out from his fist, and Chris could feel the heat and the slickness against his skin as he gave Tom a couple of experimental strokes. He could tell that Tom was only moments away from shooting all over Chris’ hand and he released his hold, pulling his hand back. Tom let out a disappointed whine, and Chris almost laughed when he saw the ridiculously sad slant of his eyebrows.

“Please, let me come, daddy,” Tom begged. “I  want to come  _now.”_

“Quiet, boy,” Chris said gruffly, shaking his head. “We’ll reach the truck stop in five minutes, you can hold on a little longer.”

Chris was about to wrap his hand around the wheel when he realized his fingers were slick and glistening with Tom’s pre-come. He gave Tom a reprimanding look, exaggerating it enough to let the boy know that he wasn’t really upset with him; he didn’t want to drive Tom into apologizing again.

“You dirty boy…” Chris scolded, showing Tom his wet hand. “You better clean the mess you’ve made.” He shoved his hand in front of Tom’s face, letting out a satisfied groan when he felt a warm tongue begin to lick it clean. Tom sucked Chris’ thick fingers into his mouth, one by one, until they were covered in nothing but remnants of clear spit, using the hem of his Transformers shirt to dry Chris’ hand.

Tom didn’t touch his cock again, but it continued to twitch against his stomach, never losing any of its hardness. When the sign for the rest stop finally came to view, Chris steered the truck to the left, circling around the large parking lot, driving past his usual spot near the service area and the gas pumps, wanting to find them a more private and secluded place. There was only one other truck parked in the area, and Chris was glad he didn’t recognize the rig. He didn’t want one of his old acquaintances coming to say hello and catching him in Tom’s company.

The truck came to a full stop, and Chris pulled the keys out of the ignition. He reached up to place the keys in the small overhead compartment above the dashboard and he felt Tom climb into his lap like an eager puppy. The boy had kicked his pants and briefs off and they lay discarded on the floor next to his backpack.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Chris chuckled, trying to get Tom to slow down by grabbing a fistful of his curls and giving them a gentle tug.

“Please… Touch me,” Tom sighed, rocking his naked hips, holding on to Chris’ broad shoulders.

Chris could see how desperately the boy wanted to come. He still didn’t want to make a mess of his truck, but Chris allowed Tom to grind against his stomach, just long enough to take the edge off, ignoring how the kid was spilling pre-come all over Chris’ flannel shirt.

Tom’s eyes closed in pleasure, and Chris got another chance to study his face. There was no sign of injury on his nose anymore, but looking at the bruise around Tom’s cheekbone and his red eye, and knowing that the boy was most likely abused at home by his step-father made Chris’ stomach turn uncomfortably. Realizing what he himself was doing made the feeling twice as bad, and it took Chris some time before he was able to push the guilt aside. But surely Chris wasn’t the bad guy here when Tom so obviously returned his desires. Chris was simply giving the poor kid what he so desperately wanted.

Tom kept grinding against Chris’ lap, his panting becoming louder with each jerky twist of his hips. Chris tugged at the boy’s curls again to get his attention. “I think it’s time to get more comfortable,” he said, motioning for the sleeper behind them. “I have a nice bed back there.”

They moved to the small sleeping quarters and Chris turned on the LED lights, placing a hand on Tom’s lower back to guide him toward the bed that took up most of the space. Tom turned around and when he realized that Chris was still fully clothed, he tried to cover his erection with his hands, suddenly self-conscious.

Chris made sure not to laugh, even if the sight of Tom standing there pantless was a little amusing. He began to undress, wanting to make Tom feel comfortable, and Tom eventually removed his hands from his crotch. He peered around nervously, looking like a lost little lamb in need of guidance.

“Go ahead, get in the bed,” Chris instructed as he removed his flannel shirt. “Get undressed for daddy,” he added, motioning for Tom to remove his socks and shoes and the small tee-shirt he still had on.

Chris watched as Tom kicked his old sneakers off and he felt a little annoyed when he noticed the way the muddy shoes stained the grey carpet on the floor. He liked to keep his rig as clean as possible since it was his home for most of the year.

Chris pulled his white undershirt over his head, folded it and set it down next to a small television set in the corner. His belt buckle was already open and Chris only had to unbutton his jeans and let them pool down at his ankles, followed by the black boxer briefs.

The kid’s eyes went wide and he gaped at Chris with shameless hunger, visibly impressed. Chris couldn’t help feeling a little smug, enjoying the attention, noticing how it went straight to his cock, which was starting to show signs of renewed interest. He was nowhere near as fit as he was in his 20s and early 30s. The signs of his unhealthy diet that consisted mostly of fast food, and the years he’d spent driving a truck were visible all over his body, but Tom seemed very impressed. Chris noticed Tom’s cock twitch against his belly and he decided to amuse the boy by flexing both of his biceps, which were still huge from having to handle the  heavy loads Chris hauled across the country.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, daddy?” Tom panted, his eyes roaming on Chris’ naked body, his pupils blown wide, swallowing the blue of his irises.

“It’ll take a little longer before daddy is ready for another round, but I’ll take good care of you while we wait.” Chris crawled into the bed with Tom, noticing that the boy was still wearing his tee-shirt. He grabbed the hem of the shirt, but when Chris tried to pull it up, Tom began to struggle, yanking his shirt away from Chris’ hands and moving away from him.

It was obvious he was trying to hide something, and Chris could guess what it was. He took hold of Tom’s shirt again, but the boy continued to resist. “Take your shirt off for daddy,” Chris ordered, trying to use their little game to get Tom to undress for him, but Tom hesitated. “You want to be a good boy, don’t you? You don’t want daddy to be angry with you?”

That did the trick, but Chris felt a horrible sting of guilt, knowing that he’d deliberately intimidated Tom into obeying him, but it seemed to be the only way to get him fully undressed.

“Please don’t be angry,” Tom whispered, hurrying to pull his shirt over his head. Chris had expected to see a fading bruise or something similar, but when he laid his eyes on Tom’s back, he couldn’t stop a horrified groan from leaving his lips. The boy’s shoulders and upper back were covered in round marks, all roughly the same size. Chris brought his hand up to touch one of them, and he realized they had been done with a big cigar. Most of them were old and fading, but there was one recent mark that stood out, still red and healing.

The reality of the situation hit Chris like a sack of bricks. “Fuck…” he groaned, bringing his hand up to rub his bearded face.

Tom hurried to turn around, anxious to see Chris’ reaction. “Are you angry now?” Tom asked in a small voice. “I knew you’d be angry!” he cried out.

Chris brought his hand down to Tom’s shoulder to calm him down. “Of course I’m not angry,” he said, trying to keep his voice soft. Tom was visibly upset and Chris could see his eyes were beginning to glisten with unshed tears. His control over the situation was beginning to slip, and Chris knew he had to get it back, and fast.

He pulled Tom into his arms, stroking his neck. “It’s okay, daddy will take care of you.”

“You still want me?” Tom asked, his voice trembling.

“Of course I do,” Chris nodded. And it was true, even the horrible reveal hadn’t entirely managed to kill his lust. It had still been over three months since Chris had gotten laid and his cock continued to stir at the thought of getting to shoot his load inside the boy. “Just lie down now and let daddy take care of you,” Chris whispered, pressing his hand against Tom’s narrow chest to guide him down.

Chris settled between the boy’s spread thighs and leaned closer, his face hovering above Tom’s lips. “Do you think you can kiss with that lip?” he asked, getting an eager nod from Tom. He smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips against Tom’s soft mouth, careful to avoid the cut. They began to kiss languidly and Chris swallowed every little sigh the boy let out. It surprised him a little that Tom was clearly an inexperienced kisser, but so skilled with his hand, and as they deepened the kiss, Chris was suddenly certain that Tom had never been kissed before. The boy had no sense of rhythm, and Chris had to guide him and show him how to move his tongue, how much to tilt his face.

Tom held on to Chris’ large biceps and he kept pressing his slippery cock against Chris’ stomach in a desperate attempt to get some friction. Chris was impressed by Tom’s restraint and obedience; not many teenagers had this much self-control when it came to their own pleasure.

Chris decided he had made Tom wait long enough, and he pulled away from the kiss, ignoring Tom’s protests, moving down between his spread thighs. He closed the boy’s cock in his fist and gave Tom a couple of light strokes, leaning closer, intending to take Tom in his mouth, but when he pulled back the foreskin to reveal the red tip, the boy’s hips jerked up and he started coming all over Chris’ hand.

Tom kept moaning, his feet kicking at Chris’ sides as watery come shot out in small spurts and dribbled down Chris’ fingers. Tom took gulping breaths, his pale chest heaving, and when Chris saw his curly head lift up from the bed, he crawled up to silence the boy with a kiss before he could apologize for coming without permission.

“Good boy,” Chris murmured into the kiss, feeling Tom relax underneath him. He leaned back and rolled over to lie on his back, reaching for the box of Kleenex on the shelf above their heads, wiping his hand clean.

Tom turned to lie on his side, giving Chris a satisfied smile. There were red blotches around his mouth and jawline where Chris’ beard had scratched the pale skin while they were kissing. Tom looked so needy and corruptible that Chris continued to harden at the sight.

“Come on, boy, climb on top of daddy”, Chris said, urging Tom to settle on top of him on his hands and knees, adjusting his limbs until the boy’s face was hovering above Chris’ half-hard cock and Chris himself had a nice view of Tom’s ass. “Spread your legs a little wider,” he instructed and Tom did as he was told. Chris brought his hand down to grip his own dick, lifting it up toward Tom’s face, urging Tom to wrap his hand around it. “Now, get daddy hard for you,” Chris breathed.

Tom began to stroke him eagerly, giving Chris wet licks all over the shaft, stopping to tongue the slit every once in a while.

“Like this, daddy?” Tom panted.

“Just like that, baby,” Chris nodded, watching the boy service his cock, enjoying the enthusiastic touches.

Chris turned his attention on the pert little ass in front of him, massaging the soft mounds before parting them to reveal the tiny pink pucker between. He wet his middle finger in his mouth and brought it between Tom’s cheeks, stroking his hole, testing its tightness.

He was eventually able to slip the tip of his finger in, but Chris could feel the kid was tight even after his orgasm, and as he kept on stroking, trying to coax Tom to open for the rest of his finger, it became obvious that Chris wouldn’t be able to fuck Tom without first taking at least an hour to get him loose enough.

Chris felt frustrated, and he had a feeling that Tom would be equally disappointed that he wouldn’t get to have Chris’ cock inside him after all. Chris decided to soften the blow a little. He took hold of Tom’s narrow hips and pulled him down until the boy sat on Chris’ face, his smooth little hole directly above Chris’ wet tongue.

Tom let out a surprised yelp when Chris began to lick him and it was obvious he had never experienced anything like this before. “Yes,” he moaned, rocking his hips against the probing tongue. “That feels so good…”

Chris could feel a steady drip of the boy’s pre-come pooling on his chest, and it made his cock spring up, hard and ready for another round. He tightened his hold on Tom’s hips as the boy began to grind against his face in earnest, and he had to eventually pull back when even Chris’ hands were no longer enough to control Tom’s eagerness.

Chris made Tom lay down on the bed on his stomach, spreading his skinny legs until Chris could kneel between them. He reached into one of the compartments above the bed and pulled out his half-empty bottle of astroglide. Tom watched him over his scarred shoulder as Chris poured most of the bottles’ remaining contents into his hand and brought it down to his erection, getting it slick, before moving to spread the lube all over Tom’s crack and the small of his back.

Tom gave him a confused look when he realized that Chris’ slick fingers hadn’t touched his hole.

“Don’t you have to get me loose and ready for your cock, daddy?” he asked, and Chris could hear the boy was nervous.

“You’re too tight for daddy’s big dick,” Chris said, shaking his head. He pressed his thick erection between Tom’s ass cheeks, and the sight only confirmed Chris’ words; he was too big for the boy.

Tom shook his head in protest but when he tried to move, Chris pressed his hand against his shoulder, forcing him to stay down. “No, Tom. It would hurt too much.” His tone was firm and final, and it made Tom swallow whatever protest he had been about to make. Chris saw him pout into the crook of his own arm which was folded under Tom’s head, and he leaned down to place a reassuring kiss to the boy’s neck. “It’s ok, I can still make you feel real good.”

“But I wanted to make _you_ feel good,” Tom wailed, lifting his curly head up again to watch Chris over his shoulder.

“You will,” Chris said. “It’ll be good for both of us.” He guided his cock between Tom’s ass cheeks, sliding up and down to see if his idea would actually work. They both let out a moan, and Chris decided that a little frotting might be just as good as a proper fuck.

He began to rut between the soft mounds of Tom’s ass, pressing his stomach and chest against the boy’s narrow back, careful not to crush Tom underneath his considerable weight.

“Harder, daddy, please, harder,“ Tom moaned, rocking his bottom against the fat cock sliding between his cheeks. Tom tried to sneak his hand beneath his body to touch his own erection, but Chris’ weight kept him pinned to the mattress, and Tom was forced to find his relief by rubbing against the bed.

Chris felt his cock slip out from between Tom’s cheeks, the skin becoming too slippery with his pre-come and lube, and he moved up, trapping his erection between his own stomach and the boy’s lean back. Chris knew he wouldn’t last much longer, the pressure in his balls increasing after going so long without a proper fuck, but he’d be damned if he blew his wad before a teenager.

Chris pushed his arm beneath Tom’s stomach to lift him up enough to make room for his hand. He took hold of Tom’s erection which was stiff and slippery in his grip and it took only three firm strokes to make the boy spill again. This time the load Tom sprayed out was a little bigger and most of it landed on the sheets and Tom’s belly. Chris let go of the boy’s softening cock and continued to grind against his pliant body, ready to chase his own pleasure now that Tom was satisfied.

“Daddy’s going to come soon,” Chris grunted, thrusting against Tom’s lower back, pressing down to squeeze his cock between their bodies.

“Come in me, daddy, please! Haven’t I been a good boy?” Tom babbled into the mattress, trying to lift his bottom in the air and get Chris to spill inside his hole.

Chris knew he couldn’t grant Tom his wish, but he did lean back, moving to kneel between the boy’s thighs. “Alright, spread your ass for me, baby,” Chris panted, waiting for Tom to follow his order. He took his cock in his hand and began to stroke it, aiming the reddened head at Tom’s hole, feeling his orgasm approaching as he watched the wanton way Tom was spreading his ass for Chris.

“Here it comes,” Chris groaned, stilling his hand and pressing the tip of his cock against Tom’s hole just as the slit flared open, spitting out a thick volley of come.

“Oh fuck… _fuck_ ,” Chris moaned, spurting his load against Tom’s hole. There was so much come that it began to drip down the boy’s perineum, all the way down to the spent prick dangling between Tom’s thighs. Chris squeezed his cock, forcing out a few more drops and feeling Tom’s feeble attempts to spread his little hole to open enough to suck in Chris’come.

Chris took pity on him and used his own fingers to gather some of the come that was spread all over Tom’s crack, pushing it inside the boy’s hole, careful not to go to deep.

The air in the sleeper was stifling and reeked of sex. Tom turned his head and gave Chris a satisfied smile. “Was I a good boy?” he murmured, looking for Chris’ approval, and Chris was more than happy to give it.

“Very good.”

 

|||

 

It was past midnight when they got back from the bathing facilities next to the gas station. Chris had fed Tom a proper meal in the small café and they were undressing again in the sleeping quarters of Chris’ truck, getting ready for bed.

Chris told Tom to settle next to the wall in case he was a restless sleeper, not wanting him to fall out of bed. He lay down, letting Tom take most of the blanket, and as soon as he pressed his head against the pillow, Chris felt Tom crawl into his arms, the boy’s small body warm against Chris’ side. He startled a little when Tom began to tremble.

“Tom? Is something wrong?” Chris asked, turning his face down. He realized Tom was crying, his tears leaving a wet blotch on Chris’ wife-beater.

“Please take me with you,” Tom sobbed, turning his face up. Chris had to look away, unable to take the pathetic expression on the kid’s tear-streaked face. “I’ll do whatever you want, daddy, please, just let me come with you.”

Chris couldn’t ignore the way Tom still called him “daddy”, and the knowledge made him feel a little uncomfortable. It was obvious now that what had been a game to Chris was something more to Tom.

“I can’t go back…” Tom cried, gripping Chris’ shirt, crawling on top of him. “I can’t go back… Please, don’t make me.”

Chris felt his heart break at the desperate pleas, but he knew he couldn’t bring Tom with him. It wouldn’t work. Tom was minor and a runaway, and sooner or later, the cops would be after them and Chris would be in deep trouble.

“Please, daddy, I’ll be so good to you, “ Tom promised, planting light kisses all over Chris’ face, wetting his beard with his tears.

Chris swallowed the strange lump in his throat and began to run his fingers through Tom’s soft curls. “It’s going to be ok,” he spoke in a soothing voice. “Everything’s going to be ok…”


End file.
